Convincing yourself that everything is okay
Like diving into a cold body of water and telling yourself that it’s warm
To put your hand on the burner as your hand is screaming, you’re telling yourself that its
Cold
That being cold in your heart is only because the world couldn’t handle your warmth
The world would be better place with your chambers cold and only the thing hot is the buildup of your
Thoughts
That’s why you tell yourself that everything is okay because you believe no one else would be there to tell you that everything is
Not okay
But it’s okay to not be okay and it’s alright to be cold and you don’t have to justify your actions and you don’t have to hold your hand over the burner anymore
Because what you think is cold of your thoughts can be the warmth to someone else.

Can you hold onto my heart
Can you force it to beat
My lifeline is on straight until you tell me to breath
A manual action
A physical human to human interaction
The dependency for me to breath
You are the source that lies beneath
The chambers of my ribs which broken now
Can you hold onto my heart
Or do you not know how?

Running the faucet hot you need to feel the string
Physical, real, catching your breath, something to make you scream
You want to feel the pain
You want to cry in a form
Because your emotional state is numb
You do not notice that strain anymore
No more sensation in those chambers anymore
So look at that welting, those blisters on your skin
For your heart has already welted away
As a rose blown gone in the wind

You must pick yourself up
Please stop thinking that you can have your life together right now
Yes, your puzzle pieces are a bit scattered but you’ll put them back together
In the future, you’ll learn how.
It’s okay that you don’t have the glue to adhere them together for a secure singular piece
Just know your life will come together because after all
You are still a masterpiece.

It is important, self-love.
Some consider it an exaggeration
Your self-worth.
But dear you must love yourself, you have to see the beauty and not keep at bay
For your features are not just surface, you are not just flesh
Your heart, those chambers, that mind
There’s so much to love of yourself
Indulge in your exquisite character far beyond your physical appearance
Kiss your thoughts and hug your personality
Self-love, self-worth.

Wake up.

Tie your hair back as a splash of cold water hits to awake another day.

Stomach aches, throat sore, reminds you of the night before. It is a daily occurrence now, like brushing your teeth, or splashing your newly awoken face.

Habitual and centered. A routine, no longer needed to be remembered.

Wake up.

Hold your hair back. Purge. Splash water on your face.

After all, it is your daily occurrence.

I did it again.

I convince myself that it's okay, one more bite it's not like you're going to keep it down any way.

It's not like it's hurting your body anyway, right?

Externally foreseen has healthy and fit. Inside you can still taste it, your throat aches, but that's nothing new.

That pain you feel is temporary, what lasts longer is the constant voice in your head.

One more bite, one more piece, you'll be fine, you'll have a quick release.

Edification of the taste of your own fingers. A comforting feeling, one you know will make things okay again.

After all, you are okay? Right? You tell others that.

That's what they want to hear, that's all they care to gather.

Not of a binged body with markings internally. After all, all they see a beautiful externally.

You are the epitome of your own perception.

The way you gaze at yourself in the mirror, a constant distraction.

Critique and criticize, defile and optimize those flaws on your skin.

You cannot help but to formulate a hate for yourself within, you cannot help but draw up a diagram of those imperfections on your touched soul case.

It is not something you compare and appraise, it is a fixation of your own incarnation.

My name is _ and I have an eating disorder.

I am __ years old, five foot-something, 157 lbs, blue eyes, brown hair, & no thigh gap.

I go to the gym five to six days a week.

I have a degree, I work full time in a managerial position, and I have a eating disorder.

You cannot see my bones, you cannot see the space between my thighs, you cannot see the rings underneath my eyes for all the thousands of tears I have cried.

I struggle with something real, something people rarely talked about, no one reveals.

Punishment, self affliction, addiction, no type of healing medical prescription.

I don't eat, I eat, I binge, I drink, I purge, I cry, and still I try.

I try to battle every day, "don't count those **** calories" I say. "You know better" they cry but I remark, "Do I?"

All I know of is to hate, hate myself, my body, a disgusting self image that I formulate.

You see beauty, you see curves.

All I see

Is something that no one deserves. A body of disgust, a fat piece of skin.

As a 157 lbs living a 300 lb within.
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